


Ornamental (2011)

by JennyB



Series: Advent 2011 [6]
Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Advent Challenge 2011, Angst, Dark, Gen, Mindfuck, Podfic Available, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-06
Updated: 2011-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Muraki collects on an outstanding debt and finds a bit of the holiday spirit, too!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ornamental (2011)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Advent Challenge 2011. Prompt: Musical Christmas snow globe.
> 
> Podfic (by the lovely Kansouame ♥♥) here: [Take a Listen!](http://www.mediafire.com/?stzearoaxn3cpsh)

"Look, Hisoka!" Tsuzuki exclaimed as he vigorously shook the plastic ball. "Snow globes!" He set the trinket back on its shelf and watched happily as the tiny flecks of glitter scattered about on the little resin town nestled in the base. "I bet the people down there are happy," he said as he gazed into the miniature world. "Some are probably out skating, and I bet others are having cookies and hot chocolate and enjoying the snow falling around them."

Hisoka snorted in irritation. "You're such an idiot sometimes. There is no 'down there'. It's just a stupid hunk of plastic that dumbasses like you spend your yen on!"

A flicker of hurt passed over Tsuzuki's eyes before he smiled. "Well, I know it's not real, Hisoka. But sometimes, it's fun to imagine what it would be like to be in a place like that."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Now quit fooling around in here and let's go. We're supposed to be working, remember?"

"Fine," Tsuzuki mumbled as he left the trinket shop with his hands jammed in his pockets and looking and acting every bit the petulant child. "You don't have to be so mean about it, though," he said as they began walking along the busy street. "I don't ever say bad things about you."

"Tch." Hisoka began walking faster.

"Hisoka? Hey, wait!" Tsuzuki ran to catch up to him, only to slip on a patch of ice. Because his hands were still in his pockets, he wasn't able to catch himself. The back of his head slammed against the concrete, and for a moment he swore he could see stars.

Hisoka stopped and turned on his heel, glaring angrily at his partner. "God, you're pathetic!" he hissed. "Get up. People are staring." Mortified, he stalked off, not caring that Tsuzuki was still sitting on his ass in the snow and rubbing gingerly at the back of his head. "Idiot." He turned down a side street, slowing his pace as he passed in front of an old church. He frowned slightly when he heard music coming from inside, and he felt a sudden insatiable curiosity to go investigate. Heading up the front steps, he reached behind him and touched the butt of the pistol he had tucked into the back of his pants. It made him feel a little more secure knowing it was there.

As he crossed the threshold, he was hit by a sudden wave of vertigo and he pressed a hand to his temple until the buzzing sensation had passed. For a moment he debated leaving and finding Tsuzuki, but his irritation outweighed his common sense and he immediately dismissed that idea. Instead, he drew his gun and entered the nave. Cautiously, he approached the altar. He could see that there was a figure seated behind the organ, partially obscured in shadow. An uneasy feeling washed over him, and he could feel the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Muraki," he breathed as he took aim, though he soon saw that it was just an elderly priest and he lowered his weapon.

The priest smiled, not looking up from his playing. "It's almost time for Sunday services."

"Sorry," Hisoka mumbled awkwardly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get his eyes to focus. The uneasy feeling intensified, and he remembered that the last time he'd felt like that had been the night he'd first encountered Doctor Muraki. Just the thought of the doctor's name had him on the verge of panic, though he tried to dismiss the feeling as irrational. _We dealt with him in Kyoto. ...Didn't we?_ "I think I should just--" He swooned, his limbs feeling as though they were made of lead. He heard the scraping of the wooden organ bench against the floor and the priest stood up. In the candlelight, Hisoka could see that the man's eyes were clear but unfocused, and he stared straight ahead as if catatonic. _Or under a spell..._

"It's almost time for Sunday services," the priest said again as he retrieved the smoking censer from its stand. He moved to the altar and swung it in a small circle, releasing even more of the thick, heavily scented incense.

With the movement, Hisoka felt the energy of the room shift dramatically, and he gasped in both shock and horror when he found his body suddenly immobile as if bound by some unseen force. His panic intensified when he realized he couldn't shift to his spirit form, though he froze in absolute terror when he heard a _very_ familiar chuckle in his ear. "Muraki!" he breathed.

"I'm so glad you could join me," Muraki purred in Hisoka's ear. "I wondered if you'd answer my call. I'm quite pleased that you did."

"Tsuzuki's just outside," Hisoka replied. "He'll stop you."

"Do you really think so?" Muraki asked as he grabbed a fistful of sand-coloured hair and jerked Hisoka's head back. "Doubtful, but we shall see." He licked over Hisoka's pulse point, delighting in the shudder of revulsion he got in return. "Hn." He straightened, a brow arching when he saw the gun clutched in Hisoka's hand. "What have I said about little boys playing with these kinds of toys?" he asked as he took the weapon from him. "Someone could get hurt," he continued as he stroked the barrel of the gun along Hisoka's cheek before pressing it to his temple.

Hisoka swallowed hard. "You can't kill me that way," he said with more bravado than he felt.

The doctor considered that for a moment. "No, you're right about that. It would hurt you, I'm sure, but you'd recover in due course." He smiled as he pressed his cheek to Hisoka's and then turned his aim onto the priest. "But I can kill him."

"It's almost time for Sunday services," the priest said, his lifeless eyes staring back at both of them.

"What's wrong with him?"

Muraki laughed. "Nothing. He's perfect the way he is - a soulless, living doll." He drew back the hammer on the gun. "The music called to you, and the incense put a paralyzing spell on you. And you couldn't sense a thing. It was one of my best spells to date, I think." The doctor's eyes narrowed cruelly. "But now that I have you, he's outlived his usefulness to me." He pulled the trigger, shooting the priest between the eyes. He turned to Hisoka and gave him a wicked smile as the priest crumpled to the floor.

Hisoka's eyes widened. His stomach clenched violently and he could taste the bile in his throat. "Tsuzuki, please..."

"It's just us, Darling." Muraki slipped the gun into his jacket pocket, and then cupped Hisoka's chin with a gloved hand as he nuzzled his cheek. "I've observed that Mr. Tsuzuki isn't really all that in tune with his surroundings. Besides, by the time he's figured out where you are, we'll be long finished with _our_ business." He smirked before letting his tongue rim Hisoka's ear. "You really are a beautiful boy. And I must admit, I do still think about how much I thoroughly enjoyed your body all those years ago. And I would bet that you've not forgotten about me, either." He flicked the tip of his tongue over Hisoka's lower lip, and then lowered his head to deliver a harsh bite to his throat. He licked at the trickle of blood that ran from the wound, and he shivered with delight. He'd forgotten how much of a tingle shinigami energy gave him. "I have to say, I have enjoyed our reminiscing. You've definitely been a fun plaything, and I will miss our conversations. However, after what transpired in Kyoto, I've come to realize that you're something of a liability to me. And a rival. How I've come to despise you for keeping me from the one I truly love. I think it's about time we part ways." His eyes narrowed as he gave him a frigid smile. "Permanently."

Hisoka paled, but he forced himself to hold the mismatched gaze. "What are you going to do to me? Torture me until I die?"

Muraki laughed cruelly and shook his head slowly. "No, dear boy. I plan on making _you_ one of my dolls. Once I've stripped your soul from your body, you'll be nothing but an empty shell, neither alive nor dead, and perfectly obedient. I'm sure I'll find some use for you. At least until I get bored with you."

Hisoka clenched his jaw. He knew that saying anything now would be pointless. The doctor was incapable of mercy or compassion. His heart rate quickened when Muraki released him, those cold, piercing eyes meeting his own, and he cried out in both panic and pain as the doctor's spell began.

Muraki held his arms out to the side as he wove his magic. It wasn't long before a soft, wispy aura began to surround Hisoka, and the doctor smirked. As the field grew in intensity, Muraki held one hand out in front of him, palm up, and a glass sphere appeared on it. With the snap of a finger from his other hand, Hisoka's soul was cruelly ripped from his body and imprisoned within the glass orb.

"Tsu...zu...ki..." Hisoka murmured as his body went limp, looking much like a marionette on a string. It was the last word he'd ever speak of his own volition.

"How utterly precious." Muraki's expression was one of pure, malevolent joy as he watched the spirited green eyes slowly lose their fire. "And yet, all in vain," he whispered, the evil grin widening. He leaned in close to Hisoka and licked away the one tear that had managed to escape down his cheek before he released the binding spell that held him.

Muraki studied him for a moment, his pale, slender fingers caressing almost lovingly along the porcelain-like flesh of Hisoka's face before he tipped the boy's chin up to look into the unseeing, lifeless eyes. "You are my most beautiful doll yet," he remarked. "A satisfactory addition to my collection." Slowly, he shifted his gaze to the sphere in his hand, and he watched it for several moments. Inside, an iridescent mist swirled slowly with shades of purple, green, red and white. "Quite lovely," he said, chuckling darkly when the mist moved more tempest-like within the confines of its vessel, almost seeming to attack the points on the glass where Muraki's fingers rested. "I see. Your soul still recognizes me. How touching; and here I thought you didn't care. Not that I care about you, though. In fact, I have no need for this part of you at all." He raised his other hand and pressed his fingers together, as if with a single snap, he would simply blink the orb out of existence.

His brow furrowed in thought and he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly in contemplation as he studied the sphere. "On second thought, you may be of some use to me after all." His malicious laughter echoed ominously throughout the church as he vanished, leaving no trace that he'd ever been there.

* * *

Tsuzuki sighed heavily as he headed up the laneway to his apartment, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trench coat. It looked like he'd lost another partner - Tatsumi had come to him that afternoon and informed him that Hisoka had left his resignation on Chief Konoe's desk. He didn't know how to feel about that. He'd thought the two of them had built enough trust between them to where Hisoka might have told him to his face that he was moving on, but Tatsumi had reminded him that if Hisoka had done that, they'd have tried to talk him out of it. Tsuzuki managed a wry smile. Tatsumi was right, of course. And Tsuzuki could understand Hisoka wanting to keep it secret. Still, he would have liked to have said good bye at the very least.

Tatsumi had graciously offered to take him out that evening - his treat, even - but Tsuzuki had declined. He didn't think that even the lure of free drinks and all the dessert he could eat would cheer him up. He knew that he would never see Hisoka again - resignation in Meifu was permanent, after all. In hindsight, he realized he should have suspected something was wrong after the way Hisoka had yelled at him that afternoon. He supposed Hisoka was justified in wanting to get away from him. He _was_ a screw up and a slacker. And yet, he couldn't help taking Hisoka's departure a little bit personally. _Especially_ after Hisoka had stopped him from doing the exact same thing in Kyoto. He sighed again as he fished his keys from his pocket.

His toe nudged something on his front porch, and he looked down to see a brightly wrapped package with a card on top of it. Frowning, he bent down and picked it up, then peered into the darkness to see if he could see anyone who might have left it. For a moment, he thought it might have been delivered to the wrong address, but then he saw his name was written on the envelope, and he smiled a little. Tatsumi, maybe? Or Watari?

He carried the box inside and set it on his kitchen table. He didn't recognize the handwriting, so he tore off the card and read it:

_Merry Christmas, Tsuzuki. When I saw this, I thought of you. Perhaps one day, I'll tell you the story behind this remarkable piece. Until then, enjoy it in good health._

_~A friend_

His frown returned. He didn't really celebrate Christmas, but he thought it was a particularly kind gesture on someone's part to get him a gift. He hoped he'd meet them someday so that he could thank them. He gave the box a small shake, only to wince a moment later when he heard the gentle tinkle of glass from within. Quickly, he tore the wrapping paper off and opened it, his brows arching when he saw it was a very ornately decorated Christmas ornament. It looked expensive, and he was beyond relieved to see that it was still intact. He set it on the table and admired the silver filigree that surrounded a simple glass ball. He lightly touched the black velvet ribbon that was tied around the crown, and then ran his fingertips over the top of the hanger.

There was a soft 'click', and Tsuzuki drew his hand back with a gasp as the filigree cage fell away, fanning out from the glass sphere like five flower petals. Worried that he'd broken it already, Tsuzuki reached out to touch it, only to pause when the sphere began to swirl with the most beautiful array of colours he'd ever seen, and an eerily haunting musical rendition of 'O Holy Night' filled his room. "A snow globe!" he said aloud to the empty room before dropping to his knees in front of it to get a better look inside the orb. He thought he could see shimmery, opalescent flakes floating through the mist of colours which moved in time with the music. There was even the illusion of the mist pressing up against the glass wherever he looked or touched. "How pretty!" When the music ended, the filigree cage closed and the mist stilled, becoming almost a quiet pulse. He let the music play a few times more, and then he went to take a shower and prepare for bed.

From the shadows across the street, Muraki smirked to himself before lighting up a cigarette. He had enchanted the music box so that each time Tsuzuki played the music, a small part of Hisoka's soul died. Eventually, the music would stop playing and everything that had once been Hisoka would be gone for good. He looked forward to the day when he would tell Tsuzuki that not only had he completely obliterated the boy's faith when he'd failed to rescue him, but also that he - by his own hand - had destroyed the one he'd sworn to protect. 

The irony of it amused him.


End file.
